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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968847">Fill Your Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/1MaybeIts_clinicaldepression2/pseuds/1MaybeIts_clinicaldepression2'>1MaybeIts_clinicaldepression2</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RuPaul's Drag Race RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Coming Out, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Falling In Love, Lesbians, Musical References, Other, Strangers to Lovers, Teachers, Teen Romance, fictional place, katya zamo free form, ref, trixie mattel free form</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:54:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,404</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/1MaybeIts_clinicaldepression2/pseuds/1MaybeIts_clinicaldepression2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Katya is a young teacher fallen out of love who decides to move across the country to a small town, looking for a fresh start. As Hills High's newest staff member she'll have to adapt her views of the world to fit in, or maybe shake things up and discover it's worth opening herself up to love again.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova, Violet Chachki/Katya Zamolodchikova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi everyone!<br/>I'm back with another story. I know I haven't finished the first fic I posted, but inspiration on that one has abandoned me. On the other hand, this one started to write itself on my mind some weeks ago and I had to put it down on paper. I've included some tags and descriptions but I don't want to give too much away- Please let me know what you think! As always comments and suggestions are appreciated!!</p><p>Love y'all!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You can find the playlist for this fic <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3arg3POZH2bE9yygJwWtAG?si=7-Fsr0dcRkWeShE-UvbXPA">here</a>. Enjoy!</p><p> </p><p>The only thought running through Yekaterina Zamolodchikova’s mind that morning was,</p><p>
  <em>“When can I have my next smoke break.”</em>
</p><p>“And this would be the Teacher’s lounge. I hope I haven’t overwhelmed you with all this information Miss. Zamokolchova”</p><p>The shrill, nasal voice made her snap back to reality and force a polite smile onto her face. The plump woman in front of her had mispronounced her last name for the fourth time since they had started a small tour of the school surroundings. It was a mouthful, and most people got it wrong the first few times, but it still annoyed her.</p><p>“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be fine. And you can call me Katya,” She added with a knowing look towards the secretary.</p><p>“Oh, It’s very nice of you” The brunette smiled at her, all dimples and white teeth, as she opened the door to the teacher’s lounge and led Katya in.</p><p>Katya couldn’t for the life of her remember the woman’s name. She figured it would be rude to ask her again since they had been walking together for almost half an hour. It would have to come up eventually. So she just kept smiling and nodding while the secretary babbled on and on.</p><p>The first thing that caught her attention was the shiny coffee machine sitting on a counter in the furthest corner of the room. Without a second thought, she walked over to it, poured herself a cup of the brown liquid, and offered the secretary one.</p><p>Katya sipped on her coffee, pretending to listen to the short woman next to her. But her mind was miles away. She felt jittery and tired. It had been a long time since she was the new teacher. The first day at a new school always made her nervous, and she had barely gotten any sleep the night before. In an effort to make a good impression on her first day, she had chosen to wear one of the few skirts she owned, paired with her best button-down shirt. The woven material rubbed against her pantyhose, making them itchy, and the heel of her shoes dug into her feet, making her ankles hurt. Uncomfortable, she shifted the weight from one leg to the other.</p><p>“Well, I’m sure this small facility can’t be compared to the place you used to work at in Boston. We are just a small town, after all.”</p><p>Katya smiled and sipped on her cup again. The place looked like every other public school she had ever seen if so a bit run down. It was pretty empty apart from both of them. There were a few tables and chairs, the open windows let in the morning sun and a slight breeze blew out the worn-out curtains Sitting at one of the tables a balding middle-aged man was eating a sandwich out of a paper wrapper, on the furthest table next to the window a blonde woman was reading a book. Katya paid attention to her for a moment trying to figure out what she was reading; there was something familiar about her. Her golden blonde waves were parted in the middle and fell at each side of her face, accentuating her round cheeks. Her eyes were cast down over the book and almost hidden by her prominent fringe. As if she could feel the weight of the stare, she looked up and met Katya’s eyes. Katya could have sworn her eyes would be some shade of blue, but they were, in fact, a light brown, almost like honey. A smattering of small freckles graced her nose and cheeks, and over her left temple, there was an almost invisible scar, hidden mostly by her fringe.</p><p>Katya wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the blonde woman broke their eye contact, but she was suddenly feeling lightheaded, like waking up from a dream and finding out she had been stripped entirely naked. Blinking a few times, she tried to regain her composure and took a deep breath, fiddling with the hem of her dress, trying to find something to do with her hands.</p><p>“Good morning, Miss. Mattel!” The secretary’s voice startled her, and she realized the blonde woman had made her way towards them. The woman was a few inches taller than her, even in kitten heels. Her elegant pink shirtwaist dress accentuated her lean figure and made her look soft and feminine.</p><p>Standing next to her, Katya felt clumsy; she sure didn’t look as good in her old-fashioned outfit.</p><p>“Good morning, Dela,” The blonde answered, smiling, and Katya finally remembered the secretary’s name to be Bendela.</p><p>“I don’t believe we’ve met. Trixie Mattel, I teach music”</p><p>It took Katya a second to realize she was being addressed with an outstretched hand, nails covered in light pink polish.</p><p>“Oh, nice to meet you! I’m Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova” She shook Trixie’s hand, grinning at the confusion her Russian accent caused. “But you can call me Katya. I’m the new English teacher,”</p><p>She added, going back to her normal accent. The blonde woman, Trixie, laughed at her teasing and pressed her book tighter against her chest. Katya tried to sneak a peek of the title before she covered it;<em> “The bluest eye”</em></p><p>“Well, good luck with that! I hope you’ll excuse me, but class starts in five minutes” With a head inclination, she turned to leave. But, before she walked away, she added, “Nice to meet you, Miss Zamolodchikova”</p><p>Katya bit her lip not to grin as Dela waved goodby, oblivious to her thoughts. <em>“She got it perfect,”</em> She thought to herself. It seemed like, after all, there was more to this small town that she had given it credit for.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The rest of the day went on in a blur. She found herself sighing with relief when the three o’clock bell ran, signaling the end of her last class. It had been a pretty good first day. Teenagers, she was surprised to say, were never the worst part of her job. Their parents were. But that part was yet to happen. Feeling a slight headache starting to pulse at her temples and her feet sore from her high heels, she dragged herself through the slowly emptying hallways.</p><p>As she opened the front doors of the building she was met with a swarm of smells and sounds. It seemed like summer was refusing to leave them that year, and in the distance, she could hear the faint laughs of a group of children playing baseball in the near field. The air felt humid and warm, inviting; filled with promises. She had forgotten how quiet small towns could be, having spent the last five years of her life in a big city, surrounded by noise, smog, and pollution. It wasn’t exactly something she missed, but the comparison to her current surroundings made her nostalgic. She felt out of place, walking through the endless path of elms that covered Main St.</p><p>She had literally taken up the first available job she could find, up and moved across the country. Behind she had left friends, the little family she still had and a job she had wanted for years. But it all seemed worth it just to get away from her. She shook her head, trying to dismiss her intrusive thoughts. Quitter was definitely not a word she would use to describe herself, but this time it had been self-preservation. She would have to get used to her new life, she knew she could do it.</p><p>Probably the luckiest she had gotten since she arrived at Fallscean Hills was finding the cute little apartment she currently called home. Her landlady turned out to be another of Hills High teachers. Miss Bianca was the science teacher and happened to have an attic turned into a studio apartment, and it was available for the rest of the semester.</p><p>She climbed the fragile flight of stairs leading to the front door and let herself in, closing the door softly she leaned her back against the scraping paint. The piles of boxes she had brought with her from Boston were still waiting to be unpacked and mocked her from their spot on the floor. She was exhausted, but before she gave in she wanted to make a phone call. Taking the heavy rotary phone from her nightstand she sat on the bed and dialed the number she knew by heart.</p><p>“Hello?” She smiled as she heard the grumpy voice at the other end of the receiver.</p><p>“Do you miss me already?” She answered teasingly.</p><p>“Girl, it’s about time you called! I was starting to think you were murdered, you know how those small towns are, cornfields, and shit..” Katya let out a wheezing laugh at her friend’s witty remark. She missed Ginger most of all. Her old friend had encouraged her to do what she thought best, but she knew how hard her departure had been on their friendship.</p><p>“Oh, come on. It’s not so bad” Katya answered still giggling</p><p>“You keep telling yourself that. which reminds me, I got your mail last week. You should tell me your new address so I can send it out for you..”</p><p>Katya narrowed her eyes at this. She had let everyone know she was moving, who could still be sending mail to her old apartment? Suddenly her eyes widened in understanding.</p><p>“Ging, don’t. I told you I don’t want to know from her anymore. It’s over” She was annoyed her friend would even bring this up.</p><p>“Katya, I know you’re hurt, but Violet is my friend too. Don’t make it harder on me”</p><p>Katya got up and walked over to her purse that had been discarded on the floor. She fished for her cigarettes and lit one right away.</p><p>“No, Ginger. Don’t you blame this on me. We both know what happened, she doesn’t give a shit. I don’t wanna know about her. Please don’t give her my address”</p><p>“Okay, I won't. Don’t worry” Her friend sounded tired. The silence grew between them, the only sound was the low buzz from the phone.</p><p>"Look, I’m sorry. but I can't do it. It's too soon” She pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. She was overwhelmed and angry. “I’ll call you back tomorrow, okay?”</p><p>“Katya..!”</p><p>Without waiting for her friend to finish she hung up and threw the phone over the bed that made a clunking sound as it crashed against the mattress.</p><p>It seemed like no matter how far she ran, there was no escaping her past. Violet had been the love of her life, they met at a mutual friend’s party. The young actress was stunning and smug, but Katya had a soft spot for her right away. In the end, she had only been one more of violet’s conquers, and not only had broken her heart but also stolen Katya’s screenplay and life’s work and sold it to a producer who would make Violet famous, leaving her to rot.</p><p>She barely realized when the tears started falling down her cheeks. Her chest ached with anger and betrayal. She had spent years trying not to let anyone in too close, afraid she would be left right in this spot, and now there was only one person left to blame. herself.</p><p>Throwing her tired body on the sheetless mattress, she closed her eyes and wished she could have a dreamless sleep</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Put down your hands 'Cause I see you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello hello hello! <br/>Here I am, back with a second chapter for this fic. It's taken me some time to post it because I've been super busy but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!<br/>There's a mention to a book in this chapter, it's called "The bluest Eye" by Toni Morrison. I've been reading throughout lockdown and I felt like including a bit of it. YOu can also see some new characters making an appearance.<br/>This chapter's title is from the song "I'll be your mirror" from The Velvet Underground, you can find it on the playlist!<br/>Okay, enough of this, hope you enjoy it! As always comment are appreciated!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Gigi Goode cruised the halls of Hills High like she owned them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was her senior year, and it was going to be the best of them all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>she walked up to a group of girls gathered around the bright red metal lockers and smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gigi! Do you think this outfit makes me look, floozy?” Her friend Jan exclaimed loudly as she saw her approaching. The rest of the gang, Nicky and Jackie, were standing behind the blonde girl laughing and sneering,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, not more than usual, why?” They all laughed as Jan pouted and shoved her friend’s arm playfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey girl, you up for practice after school? Coach wants us sharp for Friday ” Jackie asked, checking her perfectly quaffed black curls in a pocket mirror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gigi unlocked her stall and started putting away her books. “Yes, sure. At what time is it again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Four o’clock” Nickie answered, glancing behind Gigi’s back and smiling slyly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, babe” Gigi felt a pair of strong hands wrap around her waist and a kiss pressed against her cheek. She turned around to find Marc, her boyfriend smiling at her with perfect white teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ladies” He greeted the girls with a wink. They just giggled in response and Gigi rolled her eyes. They always acted so stupidly when the boys were around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess we’ll see you later Gigi” Nikkie drawled in her french accent, and winked as they all walked away. Marc pulled at her waist and rested his hand against the lockers, pinning her against the cold surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, my folks are gonna be gone this weekend, like ALL weekend,” He said with a sly smile “What do you say you come home with me Friday after the homecoming game? We can have our own party”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He gripped her waist tighter and pulled her in for a kiss. She kissed back like an automat. He had been pushing her to sleep together all summer, planning “romantic” evenings and trying to convince her. But Gigi was terrified. She didn’t feel prepared to be with anyone, but it made her feel guilty every time he brought it up like there was something wrong with her. They had been together for 2 whole years already. There were days she didn’t really understand why she was with him, maybe because her parents were thrilled with the match, or because everyone always talked about how perfect they looked together. Her friends always told her how lucky she was to date this hot guy, captain of the football team, all charm and beauty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, I don't know Marc, I’ll probably get a lot of homework this week and I don't wanna fall behind…” She answered in a whisper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, baby come on! Don’t be like that. What are you scared of? Don’t you love me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This caught her off guard. Sure she had said it times and times before, but Gigi never felt right saying it back. Guilt was creeping inside her gut, as it usually did when he brought it up. So she smiled and nodded slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All right, but just for a while, I’ll invite the girls!” She pecked him on the cheek and ran off to her first class, knowing it had been a smart way to appease him, but it wouldn't last long. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What are you afraid of?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The unpleasant question was nagging at the back of her head.</span>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
  <span> She had it all, she was a cheerleader, her boyfriend was the star of the football team, she was the daughter of the wealthiest man in town, got straight A’s since grade school, she was the teacher's favorite, president of her class, star of multiple clubs, and her future was almost secure with a place at the college of her choice. There was nothing to be afraid of. Except all of those things were lies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside, she felt empty. There was a longing tugging at her guts that she couldn’t place. She often dreamed of running away in the middle of the night, to a place where no one knew her name. Where she could be completely free.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>*****************************</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello everyone. I’m Miss Zamolodchikova. You can call me Katya, or Miss Zamo if you’re feeling lucky” She grinned at her own joke and her students chuckled along softly. She loved teaching, it had been a while since she had been in a classroom but it felt wonderful to be back. She sat on the edge of the desk and continued </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ This is the advanced English course, so if anyone here thinks they’ve got the wrong class please check now. We’ll be reading some of the best books to ever be written, things that’ll help you in life, in college and will hopefully make you all avid readers” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They all laughed again, even though she wasn’t joking this time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As our first exercise, I would like you to write something, anything. Whether it’s a poem, a short story, or a grocery list, it doesn’t matter. I want to get to know you better. When you’re finished please deposit your masterpieces inside the box on my desk”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She pointed at the brown cardboard box </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to sign your names if you don’t want to. This won't be graded, but do your best. I'll choose the ones I like the most and read them for the class tomorrow”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She checked her wristwatch and added </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have half an hour”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She leaned back a little and watched her students scribble. This was one of her favorite exercises, to begin with. Not only because she got to have half an hour of quiet, but because she also got to sneak inside her student’s minds for a bit. She took the attendance list and read the names out loud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goode, Gigi”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A redhead girl in a high ponytail raised her hand barely paying attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Methyd, Crystal”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the back of the room, a brown-haired girl with choppy bangs raised her hand shyly. She kept on naming them until the list was over and she heard the bell ring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The students started to leave the classroom, depositing their papers on the box on their way out. She waited until they had all left and gathered her things. Her next class wasn't for another hour so she thought getting a cup of coffee was a good idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She headed towards the teacher’s lounge, where she found Trixie sitting at the same spot, being bathed by the morning sunlight, a cup in one hand and a book in the other. She noticed her hair was up this time, half of it was held in place by a pink ribbon, the waves cascading backward, making her neck look longer. Her makeup was flawless. She reminded Katya of Brigitte Bardot in a way. It was quite chic, and Katya thought it seemed out of place. She would have never expected to find someone that looked like Trixie did in this small and lost town. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This woman was intriguing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It seemed like Trixie was so focused on her reading she had forgotten she was holding a cup in her hands. A small crease had formed between her brows in concentration. Katya noticed the book had been covered with a flower-patterned paper, hiding its title. She smiled to herself and went to sit at the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Miss Mattel,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She said, startling the blonde woman as if she had been caught cheating on a test. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, hi!  Katya is it?” She smiled warmly and put down the book. “Call me Trixie, please. How’ve your first days been?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katya smiled and sat down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know teenagers, they’ll pretend to like you until the first quiz comes around”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> They both laughed softly. She sipped on her own cup and pointed at the book sitting on the table</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “This must be very good, you seemed quite enthralled”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Trixie looked down and visibly swallowed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, yes it is. It was a gift actually” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katya reached her hand out and picked the book up, opening it by the page Trixie had marked down, reading a random sentence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But to find out the truth about how dreams die, one should never take the word of the dreamer.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She smiled to herself and looked at Trixie over the open page. She opened her mouth to speak but suddenly the other woman started gathering her things, standing up and snatching the book out of Katya’s grasp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I actually have a class now, so I better get going. Good to see you again” And with that she almost ran away, leaving Katya confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> She heard the shrill voice before she saw the brunette secretary sit down beside her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye Trixie! Oh, isn’t she nice?” She greeted Katya. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katya nodded absentmindedly. What had that been about? Had it been out of line to grab the book? She hoped she hadn't offended Trixie in any way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By her side, Dela poured some cream on her coffee and started chatting away, Katya barely listened, until something caught her attention; “I’m sorry what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said she’s so nice, but also so private and reserved. I suppose it’s normal considering what happened to her” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head sadly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You mean Trixie? What happened to her?” Katya asked, turning to face the secretary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dela doubted for a second before answering </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, the Lord knows I’m not a gossip but, I mean, you weren’t here before. That poor girl, she was in a car accident last year. Her boyfriend Bob and her best friend Shea died. She was the only one to get out alive” Dela looked troubled as if it was not her place to share this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shea was actually our English teacher before it happened” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Katya was dumbfounded. that explained the scar she had noticed on Trixie’s forehead the first day. It was completely heartbreaking.  Maybe that was the reason Trixie was reluctant to talk to her. Maybe it brought her bad memories. Katya decided she would keep her distance from the music teacher from then on, it had to be hard to be around people like Dela pitying you behind your back, but it had to be harder to deal with your best friend’s replacement. She shook her head in disbelief and took a long sip from her cup, her coffee tasted cold and bitter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the end of the school day, Katya was exhausted. On her way out she had gotten roped into helping Dela and Bianca move some gear to the Gym. The upcoming homecoming game seemed like all anyone could talk about, and Katya found out it was almost mandatory for teachers to assist, it being a yearly tradition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She groaned to herself in frustration. She did not miss this kind of spirit from small towns. Her arms and feet ached and she still had to mail out some letters. She slowly dragged her feet down the building’s front stairs, looking up to the dark clouds covering the sky. A storm was almost upon them. Hoping it would hold until she got home she started walking quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was watching the first drops wetting the pavement when she was startled by a loud honk that made her jump. She turned around to find a white pickup truck slowing down to stop by her side. From the inside of the vehicle, a familiar face greeted her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! It looks like there’s a storm headed this way. Do you need a ride?” Trixie pointed at the sky with her long fingers just when the first thunder sound hit the ground, making them jump. Without thinking twice Katya opened the heavy truck door and hopped on the passenger's seat. Trixie smiled and started driving away. The rain misted the glass and Trixie turned on the windshield wiper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was close, thank you, Trixie! This is my fancy shirt,” Katya said, smoothing the bow at her neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trixie looked at her from the corner of her eye and burst into laughter. Katya’s shirt was awful. Its pattern was so clashy Trixie could barely look at it. Katya grinned back at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, whatever you say! You are welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> The silence grew between them and Katya fiddled with the ruffles of her shirt, nervous. She didn’t know what to say other than thank you, She felt awkward knowing what she knew as if she was snooping into Trixie’s life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Leanin against the leather seat she studied Trixie as they navigated the narrow streets. She was wearing a short-sleeved pink sweater with a white belt around her tiny waist, and a pleated white skirt that ended an inch above her knees. Katya thought she looked beautiful.  For some reason, it was difficult for her to conjure the image of the reserved person that Dela had painted of Trixie. Everything about her exuded warmth and kindness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon enough they were parked at Katya’s house and she realized she hadn't even told Trixie where she lived. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know…?” She asked, confused. Trixie laughed and rested her elbow on the back of her seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a small town, Katya. News travels real fast” She answered with an intent look  “And also Bianca told me '' </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She smiled but her demeanor had changed, she looked down at her hands folded on her lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to apologize for storming out today, it was rude and it had nothing to do with you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katya swallowed and nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure you know by now but my best friend used to be Hills High English teacher until last year. She was the one who gifted me the book” she looked up, her eyes showed pain but her lips were smiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a great book” Katya answered in a strangled voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Trixie snorted and nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes it is, but I’m sure it’s off-limits to take it to school”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won't tell,” Katya whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Outside the rain poured heavily, shielding their vision from anything but the inside of the truck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you” Trixie answered looking at her. “It’s hard  to keep a reputation when everyone thinks they know something about you”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She leaned over to the passenger’s seat and patted Katya’s cold hand. Katya blinked, stunned by the unexpected nearness, and stared at Trixie’s perfectly manicured hands. Her pink nails were short and blunt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you going to homecoming Friday?” Trixie asked leaning back to her seat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trixie laughed and shook her head no. “Ok, I’ll see you then”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katya nodded and hopped off the truck as Trixie revved the engine back to life. She leaned over the open passenger’s window and said</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry Trixie, I won’t assume I know anything about you”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trixie laughed and waved her hand dismissively</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh mama, but you do” And with a wink, she started driving away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katya stood there until the truck disappeared behind the corner, her clothes soaking wet and dripping, but she couldn’t feel it anymore.</span>
</p>
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